


♡ DNA! ✩ PT. 2 ♡

by SadEnergy



Series: ♡ DNA! ♡ [2]
Category: Eminem (Musician), Machine Gun Kelly (Musician)
Genre: Accidental Hurt, Bruises, Cock Warming, Crossdressing, Feminization, Injury, Leashes, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadEnergy/pseuds/SadEnergy
Summary: **the title has nothing to do with anything, I was just listening to DNA by BTS while writing this.**♡ In this episode of D.N.A!, Marshall accidentally hurts Kelly, and makes up for it. ♡♡ Not much happens in this fic except for shameless smut. ♡♡ Comment if you'd like a part three! ♡♡ A huge thank you to the supporters of Bloody Valentine, which was my first EMGK fanfic to put up, your support helps my writing confidence so much! ♡
Relationships: Colson Baker | Machine Gun Kelly/Eminem
Series: ♡ DNA! ♡ [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019605
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	♡ DNA! ✩ PT. 2 ♡

**Author's Note:**

  * For [friendshipanal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendshipanal/gifts), [CosmicBash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicBash/gifts).



After Marshall had left, Colson was left completely alone. Only once did Marshall come back, and that was to bring him his now full water bowl and a wrapped up, pre-sliced roll cake, so Colson wouldn’t go hungry. However, that was it, because as soon as he got his food and water, Colson didn’t get to see Marshall, and that made him sad. He wasted time by playing around the office, messing with the stationary and books. He even doodled “Kelly ♡s you!” on Marshall’s notepad. 

  


Towards six in the afternoon, Colson ended up falling asleep in his bed, cuddled up to the blankets and extra pillows. He was snoring quietly in his little corner when the door clicked open, and Marshall walked inside, his expression sour and angry. When he shut the door a little too loud, Colson jolted awake, lifting his head up to see what was going on. He could feel the tension stink up the previously calm room. 

  


Marshall was pissed. 

  


Colson swallowed, slowly sitting up in his bed and crossing his legs. He wondered if he should say something, and hesitated to speak. “... are you okay?”

  


Marshall yanked his seat out of its place, sitting on it harshly, a rough, annoyed exhale leaving his nostrils. He didn’t answer Colson’s question, and instead rubbed at his eyes with his hands, visibly trying to ease the stress. “Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist onto the table, letting out a sigh when he saw Colson flinch back. “... sorry, just…” he trailed off, gesturing at Colson to come forward. “Come here, baby girl.” he said. 

  


Without hesitation, Colson moved to his knees, crawling towards Marshall’s desk, his movements wary and anxious. He stopped at the foot of Marshall’s desk, looking up, waiting for Marshall to say something. For a brief few seconds, Marshall just sat there in complete silence, but it was obvious that he needed something to cheer him up. So, Colson stuck his head out, nudging at Marshall’s knee with his nose, demanding attention. When Marshall grumbled out a low “what?”, Colson looked up. “Wanna see what I learned?” 

  


When he realized he could practically hear the smile in Colson’s voice, Marshall looked down. “Alright, girlie, show daddy what you learned.” he said. Despite his cold and brute personality, Marshall was unable to hold in his smile at the sight of Colson. “So this is what we’re doing now?”

  


The blond had his eyes crossed, his tongue sticking out, his entire aura reeking with perversion. He blinked his irises back into place, smiling wide. “I’ve been practising crossing my eyes.” he bragged, placing his chin on top of Marshall’s knee, looking at him. “You’re tense.” he observed. When Marshall nodded in defeat, Colson knew what to do. He pulled away and, with a little bit of difficulty, crawled in between Marshall’s legs, having to nudge them apart so he could fit comfortably. In his current position, Colson was halfway underneath the desk. 

  


“What’re you doing down there, pretty girl?”

  


The pet name made Colson’s heart flutter. “You’re upset.” he said simply, offering no further explanation. Instead, he reached for Marshall’s sweats, grabbing them by the hem, and tugging it down by the elastic. Once he had Marshall’s sweats down to his thighs, Colson moved onto his boxers, repeating what he had done. When he caught sight of Marshall’s cock, Colson was quick to grab onto Marshall’s hips, scooting closer. He parted his lips, inching closer and starting off by placing a kiss onto the tip. He continued by sucking onto the tip, and was planning on deepthroating until Marshall came. 

  


“You wanna make daddy feel good?” Marshall asked, his voice less than sturdy thanks to the stimulation. “That’s sweet of you, princess, but daddy’s still got a few phone calls to make.” 

  


Colson whined, looking up. His eyebrows crooked upwards, as he worked up the best puppy eyes he could manage. 

  


Marshall sighed, reaching forward and resting his head on Colson’s head. “Don’t look at me with those baby blues, Kelly, you’re making it so hard to say no.” When Colson continued to whine around his length, Marshall bit his lip, barely stopping a moan from leaving his lips from the vibrations Colson’s whines were sending down his length. “I don’t know who’s getting spoiled anymore. You love daddy’s cock in your mouth as much as I do.” he ruffled Colson’s hair, chuckling with pity. “Look at you, just like a pornstar, princess.” he cooed. “Tell ya what. You can keep daddy’s cock in your mouth like that during his meetings, but you gotta be quiet alright?” 

  


Colson nodded, quickly scooting under the desk. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but he barely registered it as his head was clouded with the thoughts of being able to make Marshall happy. Once they adjusted to their position, Colson was quick to take Marshall’s length in again, this time, all of it instead of just the tip. He got comfortable and placed his head against Marshall’s thigh, sighing contently. 

  


Marshall wondered how he was going to get anything done with Colson sitting underneath his desk, his cock in between those pretty, glossed up lips. But, he had no choice, and so, he decided that the sooner this bullshit was dealt with, the sooner he could fuck Colson until he passed out. With a heavy sigh, he yanked open his drawer, pulling out a file he was supposed to go through. “Stay quiet during daddy’s meetings, okay princess?” he reached in between his legs and pet Colson for a brief moment when he felt the blond nod. “Good girl. Daddy’s got a few meetings, and he has to make a few phone calls, okay?”

  


While under the table, Colson listened in on what was happening above him. Marshall’s first two meetings went by just fine, not a lot of trouble, just a few frustrated sighs from the older man, which comforted Colson. Even though he had never been on the receiving end of Marshall’s anger, but he had seen it up close. It was terrifying. Marshall would yell, throw things, and in a few cases, get physically violent. There were several occurrences where Paul had to pull him away from the scene because he was going too far. Colson sometimes wondered how Marshall still had his job, with the way he spoke to potential clients and even some of the staff. 

  


“Hello? Yep, I’m here.” 

  


Marshall’s voice broke Colson away from his thoughts, and he looked up. He hadn’t realized how sore his jaw had become, saliva not only pooling in his mouth, but dripping from his lips, to his chin and stretching onto the carpeted floor. Colson reached up and placed his hand onto Marshall’s knee, scooting in closer, checking on Marshall without words. 

  


But Marshall didn’t respond, which was strange for Colson. Usually, if he was underneath the desk, Marshall would over and pet his blond locks, maybe even talk to him for a little bit, but this time, Colson didn’t get any sort of reaction. How bad was the phone call going?

  


“What the fuck? What the fuck are you talking about asshole?” Marshall spat, reaching over and yanking open his top drawer, tugging out a folder that had several papers inside. He flipped through them, and stopped when he found the one he needed. “No you dick! I thought it was expiring on the 15th! What the fuck do you expect of me right now, huh?!” He slammed the file onto the table, his voice dripping with venom. “That whole band is on tour! Do you know what the fuck that is?! They’re not here. How the fuck can I get them to fucking sign their extension forms when they’re in fucking Nevada!” he slammed the phone onto the receiver. 

  


There was a brief second of silence where only Marshall’s ragged breathing could be heard. That silence was shattered into a million pieces when Marshall slammed his fist onto the table. “Fuck!” he shouted, kicking his leg out under the desk. However, instead of the hard, sturdy wood that would take out some of the anger in his veins, Marshall was met with a soft, delicate skin, and a yelp. 

  


Colson was kicked back, his back hitting the wooden wall of the desk with a loud thud. The pain shouldn’t have been the worst in the world, but Marshall was strong. And when angry, he would put in the extra effort, and in this case, it showed, because Colson could feel his stomach pulsing with pain, and he could feel his lower ribs sting at the impact. He was welling up with tears as he wiped at his mouth, clearing his lips and chin from the saliva. 

  


Marshall was angry enough that he couldn’t hear anything besides the blood flowing in his vessels, and how his anger was making his ears pound. It took Colson actually crying and letting out a few sobs for Marshall to snap out of it, quickly pushing his seat back. “Oh God. Kelly?” He tugged his briefs and sweatpants up with panic, practically throwing himself onto the floor. “Kelly, baby? Look at me girl, hey,” he bent at an uncomfortable angle, climbing under the desk where Colson was. He could feel his heartstrings hurting when he saw Colson. “Kelly?” 

  


He was tucked into the corner of the underside of the desk, folded up, holding onto his stomach, and shaking in pain. Despite knowing Marshall wasn’t angry at him, Colson still scooted away, scared of having to be Marshall’s punching bag. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I forgot you were down there.” Marshall reached out and gently ran his hand along Colson’s arm. “Oh, princess, daddy’s so sorry.” he pleaded, feeling his eyes grow hot with tears. Never, in the time that he had known Colson had he gotten violent with him. “Baby girl, come here, please, daddy’s sorry.” 

  


Colson, while still shaking, didn’t flinch when Marshall touched him, but he did whimper. When Marshall asked him to come closer, he did, while hesitant. He slowly crept closer, still holding onto his stomach. 

  


“There you go, babygirl.” Marshall encouraged, continuing until Colson was halfway out from under the desk. He looped his arms under the other’s armpits, pulling him close. When he was just a few inches away, Marshall reached and swept the blond locks out of Colson’s face, placing a kiss onto his forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” he whispered, pulling the blond into a hug. Marshall frowned when he heard Colson weep into the crook of his neck. He ran his hand up and down the blond’s back, rubbing small circles into the inked skin. “Shh… I’m sorry princess.” he repeated.

  


“... Is it gonna… bruise?” Colson asked, his voice trembling. He let out a shaky sigh when Marshall nodded reluctantly. 

  


“Let daddy make it up to you,” Marshall said, placing a series of butterfly kisses along the pale but tattooed shoulders. “Okay princess? Come on, look at me, baby.” he pressed on, genuinely worried that Colson was scared of him. Thankfully, he nodded, and with that, Marshall ran a hand through his blond locks, gently pushing him onto the floor. “Let me see, princess.” he said, reaching over and holding onto Colson’s hands that were covering the injury. Slowly prying his hands away, Marshall leaned down and kissed his stomach, where underneath the red bricks, dark pink blotches were starting to form.

  


Colson winced at the initial contact, but forced himself to relax when Marshall kissed further up, stopping at the frilly, pink bra that he was wearing. When he felt Marshall’s hand dig under him, Colson arched his back, allowing the older man to unhook the underwear and pull it off with ease. He adored it when Marshall gushed about his non-existent breasts, and sometimes he pondered how this strange kink came about. Everytime he and Marshall slept together, he would compliment and talk about Colson’s “tits” so much that it made Colson wonder if the older man thought he actually had them.

  


Marshall took one of Colson’s nipples in between his index finger and thumb, while his head sunk down and he began to run his tongue along the other. For a second, Marshall swore he could taste the nasty ink Colson used to blackout his nipple, but he ignored it. Hearing Colson moan at the contact confirmed that he was doing a good job. After giving the blond’s right nipple one more lick, Marshall pulled his tongue back, this time going in with his teeth. Gently biting at the nub, he moved his free hand down, stopping at the blond’s thighs and sliding his hand up his skirt. Pulling away from Colson’s nipple, Marshall looked at him and smiled. “You have any idea how much I love your tits, Kelly?” he smiled when the blond nodded. “Oh, I bet you perk your pretty chest out for just anyone, don’t you?”

  


“N-no,” Colson moaned, arching his back, trying to make his chest feel more like what Marshall wanted, rather than the flat as a board pecks he had. Realistically, even if he was a girl, he would most likely have the smallest boobs possible. “They’re… just for you, daddy.” he whispered, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood when Marshall palmed his erection from under the skirt. 

  


With a content sigh, Marshall found his fingers sliding through the pink, Victoria’s Secret underwear he had bought for Colson. “Hm, you’re so wet, babygirl.” he cooed, smiling when he successfully pulled a moan out of the blond. “Bet you were thinking about me while you were alone,” he presumed. “Hand down in your panties, all wet and dripping for me.” 

  


Colson whined loudly, grabbing onto Marshall’s shoulders, his nails digging into his clothed skin, a pathetic attempt to ease the tension in his body. “Please, please, Marshall. I need it…” he let out a breathless exhale in frustration when Marshall told him to specify what he wanted. “D-daddy’s cock… I want it inside me, I wanna have… his cum dripping from my legs when I… when I walk.” formulating sentences when he was actively being touched was something Colson struggled with to no end, and it didn’t help that Marshall was so persistent in having him talk. 

  


“Good girl, see how easy it is? Using your words?” he asked. However, his good, caretaker attitude slipped right off when he heard Colson murmur out a long, drawed out “fuck”. Marshall yanked his hand away, sitting up. “Did I hear that right?”

  


Colson knew what was at stake as soon as the curse word left his lips. When he arrived at Def Jam, one of the first things Marshall lectured Colson on was his language. Apparently, only he was allowed to curse. Now, every time he cursed, whether intentional or not, Marshall would put him in his place. “No! I’m sorry, please, Marshall! I didn’t swear!” he defended, knowing he basically was digging his own grave. 

  


“Oh, I think you knew exactly what you were doing.” Marshall grabbed the blond by his hips, jerking him forward, and with a swift move, he had Colson on his stomach, his long legs stretching over Marshall’s lap. “You know what happens when you swear, don’t you, Kelly?”

  


For some bizarre reason, instead of nodding and taking the punishment, Colson decided to argue. “B-but I didn’t mean to.” he started, looking over his shoulder and at Marshall. “Please, it was an accident. I would nev-” he was interrupted by a surprised cry when Marshall’s hand harshly landed on his ass cheek. 

  


Marshall, completely ignoring Colson’s defences, continued. “Bad girl.” he spat, following it with another spank. “Such a bad girl, using language like that. But I bet you knew you’d get spanked, and couldn’t wait to have your ass abused. Can’t handle your insides being wrecked, gotta have ‘em on the outsides too?” he continued to slap Colson’s ass, until a deformed blotch of red hand prints started to become visible. He stopped, looking over at the blond’s state. “Look at you, filthy fucking slut. You love it.” he jeered, turning his gaze back to Colson’s reddened ass.  “I bet you’d like it if someone walked in here right now. You’re a fucking showoff aren’t you, want the whole world to watch you get your organs rearranged.”

  


Colson was weeping loudly, his tears making his cheeks glisten in the artificial white light of the room. He was hiccuping in between his sobs, his legs trembling visibly from both the impact he had taken, and the twisted scenarios Marshall was putting in his head. “I… I’m s-sorry, daddy.” he begged, his vision blurry from the tears. “I’m so sorry for cursing, please, I’ll be good, I-”   
  


“You’re gonna be a good girl for me?” Marshall hummed, taking a grip on Colson’s hips again, this time, using his elbow to poke the undersides of his knees, signalling him to go on all fours. When he did, although with trembling movements, Marshall also moved onto his knees, swiftly tugging his sweats down. “Gonna be a good little slut for daddy?” 

  


“P-please, I’ll be really, really good.” Colson promised, propping himself up on his elbows. He could feel Marshall tugging down his thong, and couldn’t help a pained groan when the older man pushed his cock into his hole, using his hands to hold his ass cheeks apart. “God! That’s so good.” he groaned, his head dropped down low as he tried to catch his breath. “Please daddy, make me feel good!” 

  


Marshall didn’t hesitate, he was quick to start rocking in and out of Colson, slowly picking up the pace. He felt a dark, twisted sense of satisfaction as he tightened his grip on the blond’s hips, hard enough for his knuckles to grow white. “Fuck… good girl, such a good girl.” 

  


When the tip of Marshall’s cock brushed against his prostate, Colson nearly collapsed, a loud gasp leaving his lips. “Please! There, again! Daddy that felt… so good!” he moaned, his voice shaking from the sheer pleasure. 

  


“Anything for my princess.” Marshall cooed, reaching for the pink leash that was laying on the carpet, still attached to Colson’s collar. He yanked it back, watching with amusement as the blond’s head jerked back with it, emitting a moan from him. “Such a good girl, maybe I’ll let you walk around with a vibrator inside you, so you can walk around whimpering and shaking, like a dog.”

  


Colson could feel his own dick grow tight, the sensation of an orgasm lingering dangerously close. “M-Marshall, I’m gonna cum!” he whined, his voice coming out much more choked up than he had hoped, but that was to be expected when his windpipe was scraping against the pink leather. 

  


“Then do it, girlie.” Marshall encouraged. “Cum for daddy, show me who makes you feel this good.” he continued, until Colson let out a moan so loud, he wondered if others could hear it. Not that it bothered Marshall, no one had the balls to say anything about it. “Fuck. You’ve made a mess, babygirl.” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Gotta clean that up.” Marshall slowly pulled his dick out of Colson, a long, thick trail of cum following it, before breaking off and dripping down the blond’s ass crack and his balls. “Woah, careful there, girl. You’ll fall into your jizz.”

  


As soon as Marshall pulled out, Colson collapsed, being caught by the older man. His breathing was ragged, heavy and tired, but he knew what Marshall meant when he told him to “clean it up”. So, he wasted no time, and pulled out of Marshall’s embrace. “S-sorry for spilling it on your carpet,” he mumbled, moving to sit on his knees. Slowly and suggestively bending over, Colson stuck his tongue out, licking up the stain on the dark carpet. He knew Marshall was watching, and, despite how tired he was, wanted to give the older man a show. 

  


“There you go. Good girl,” Marshall praised, running a hand through Colson’s blond locks. “Clean up after yourself.”

  


Colson couldn’t hold back a moan as he was praised. He picked up his speed, quickly sucking at the filthy carpet until all that was left was a stain made by his saliva. He pulled away turning to face Marshall, inaudibly asking him if that was good. He smiled when Marshall stood up, using the leash in his hand to guide Colson back to the bed. When he got comfortable, he looked up at the older man, watching him pull his pants up. “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head.

  


“Huh? Y-yeah,” Marshall ruffled the blond’s hair for the upteenth time, smiling. “I’m sorry for kicking you.”

  


“It’s okay, I love you.”

  


There it was again, so Marshall hadn’t misheard it the first time. “I… love you too,” he said, almost hesitantly. “I’m gonna go finish up downstairs, and we can go home, okay?”

  


“Okay.” Colson smiled tiredly, watching the older man leave.


End file.
